


what do we do?

by birlcholtz (justwhatialwayswanted)



Series: Jack is Out at Samwell AU [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, Gen, Jack's first year at Samwell, or like. kinda angst. brief angst, previous Jack/Kent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:17:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23300749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justwhatialwayswanted/pseuds/birlcholtz
Summary: Usually, when Jack gets texts from his mother, they're about home, or something she cooked, or something funny one of her friends said or something funny his father did, or a bad TV show she watched, or a picture of the sunset from their backyard.Usually, when Jack gets texts from his mother, reading them doesn't knock the air out of his lungs. And usually, he doesn't have to think nearly this hard about what to reply.Maman: Kent wants to talk to you
Relationships: Shitty Knight & Jack Zimmermann
Series: Jack is Out at Samwell AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1674502
Comments: 46
Kudos: 151





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> here it is! the story of how jack came out! there is no outing in this btw just in case anyone was worried, everything is voluntary and pre-planned

Usually, when Jack gets texts from his mother, they're about home, or something she cooked, or something funny one of her friends said or something funny his father did, or a bad TV show she watched, or a picture of the sunset from their backyard.

Usually, when Jack gets texts from his mother, reading them doesn't knock the air out of his lungs. And usually, he doesn't have to think nearly this hard about what to reply.

**Maman:** Kent wants to talk to you

**Maman:** I told him he couldn't have your phone number but if you said yes he could call you on my phone when you're here over winter break and talk.

**Maman:** I don't know what about but he said it was important

**Maman:** It's up to you. I'm happy to tell him you don't want to talk, just let me know

**Maman:** And winter break is still a few weeks away so you don't have to decide soon

**Maman:** I love you

Jack stares at his phone and feels something inside of him twist.

Kenny... Parse isn't good for him. They weren't good for each other. He knows that now. But the lack of closure has been gnawing at him recently, especially now that he's playing hockey again— really  _ playing, _ not coaching.

Now that he's playing NCAA hockey. Not juniors. Not NHL.

**Jack:** I want to talk to him but I don't know if it's a good idea.

**Maman:** Do you want to talk about it or do you just want time to think?

**Maman:** We'll be here for you anytime if you want to talk, either or both of us, whatever you want

**Jack:** Can I call you?

**Maman:** Of course

He presses the Call button right away. Sometimes, Jack would rather talk to his dad than his mom, and sometimes he would rather talk to his mom than his dad. Right now is one of those times. Maman is better at handling the worry and fear that is always roiling in Jack's gut and occasionally flares up. Papa means well, but he's too...  _ positive, _ sometimes. Like he doesn't know how to be any other way. Sometimes it grates on Jack. Sometimes it makes him feel worse.

"Hi, baby," she says as soon as she picks up. "Want to talk through it?"

"Yeah." He glances at his door. It's locked, he knows it is, but something makes him stand up and open and close the door just to check. "I want to just... get my thoughts out there and then talk about them."

"Okay."

"Uh... I don't know where to really start." Jack thinks back to rehab. They'd wanted him to talk about how he felt a lot. All the time, really.  _ It doesn't have to be deep. It doesn't have to be insightful. It doesn't have to make sense. I don't have to like it. It just has to be what I think I'm feeling. _ "But I think I want to talk to him because I'm curious why he's going to all the trouble. And I miss him. A lot. But I don't want to miss him. And I'm afraid talking to him will freak me out because he's in the NHL. And I'm not. And I don't know what he wants to say, and that worries me, but also I don't think he would try so hard to talk to me if it wasn't really important. So I'm almost... more worried about not talking to him than I am about talking to him, if that makes sense."

"It does," Maman says, and then she waits.

"Uh... so that's what I'm feeling. What do you think?"

He can hear her sigh through her nose over the phone, and the only thing that keeps him from freezing up and apologizing for asking is his knowledge that Maman does this when she's thinking about a hard question. It doesn't have anything to do with him. And it means she also thinks it's worthy of a careful decision. So it's almost... reassuring. 

"Baby, I can't tell you what to do, but if you do decide you want to talk to him, you'll be home, and we can support you as much as possible."

"I was thinking that maybe if I talk to him, I can say goodbye to him properly," Jack says hesitantly. "Is that stupid?"

"Not at all," Maman says immediately. "If you want closure, and you feel ready to have that conversation, then I think it's a good idea. It all depends on whether you really feel ready or not."

"Okay. Thanks, Maman. I'll think about it some more and text you when I decide."

"I love you. See you in December."

"I love you too."

She hangs up, and Jack thinks.

He definitely wants closure. He wants to get rid of that nasty feeling he gets whenever he thinks about missed calls, ignored texts, and finally Jack changing his phone number without saying a word. At the time it was what he needed, or at least what he was sure he needed, and he's in a better place now.

But is he in a good enough place to talk to Kenny— Parse without it turning into a disaster?

Is  _ Parse _ in a good enough place to talk to him?

Well, that's his business, honestly, not Jack's. And he  _ is _ really trying to get in contact. It must be important, important enough for him to ignore all the times Jack's ignored him.

Jack is starting to get a feeling that he knows what this might be about. And if he's right, he  _ definitely _ needs to talk to Kenny. Parse. Whatever.

**Jack:** Tell him I'll call him over break

**Maman:** Okay. I'm proud of you and we're here if you need us at any time

And that's great, but now that Jack has actually sent that message and committed to it, he's starting to feel a little shaky. Not in a panic attack way, more of a 'fuck I can't believe I'm doing this' kind of way, and he can't... he doesn't want to call her again, but he wants to hear  _ someone _ tell him he's doing okay.

Samwell is a small school, but it's still big compared to Jack's previous social circle of his parents, some of his parents' friends, and his peewee team. And the hockey team is big, and he knows not everyone there likes him. A  _ lot _ of the people there don't like him. And it doesn't help that he gets nervous and doesn't know how to deal with that, because it means he shuts down and suddenly the only thing he can talk about is hockey and even though he knows people are mentally rolling their eyes he can't stop.

So he doesn't have a lot of friends on the team.

Well, really, he has a lot of  _ acquaintances, _ minus the couple of guys who pretend they don't think Jack was on cocaine or something, and he has one friend.

Jack weighs the merits of texting, and then decides that it's a text and if it's an inconvenient time for Shitty then he doesn't have to respond right away. It's one text. He can do this.

**Jack:** Apparently my ex called my mom and said he wanted to talk to me

**Jack:** And I said I would talk to him but I don't know if that's a super dumb idea or not

Shitty's typing bubble pops up and is there for a long time before he actually sends a text.

**Shitty:** are u in ur room

**Jack:** Yes

**Shitty:** k im coming over bc a) thats v brave and i need to tell u that to ur face and b) we are gonna hug this out and im gonna list all the reasons talking to ur ex is not necessarily a dumb idea

**Jack:** You have to be wearing clothes to hug this out

**Shitty:** brah i might be comfortable in my own skin but not comfortable enough to walk across the quad naked in november my balls would freeze off

**Jack:** I'm pretty sure that can't happen

**Shitty:** u never know

**Shitty:** also dont answer this if u dont want to but u said ur exs pronouns were he and him and maybe i missed smth but u havent mentioned not being straight before?

**Jack:** No I didn't mention it

**Jack:** I'm bi

**Jack:** You're like... the fourth person who knows now

**Jack:** Congrats

**Shitty:** no congrats to *u* man! u are SUPER fucking brave and im rlly glad u told me and that uve trusted me with this, it means a lot

Jack exhales.

**Jack:** Thanks

**Jack:** When are you getting here

**Shitty:** just got to ur lobby. still clothed

**Jack:** Good

Shitty's been to Jack's room before, and for a moment Jack wonders if he should go get him, but apparently he still remembers the way because a couple of minutes later he knocks on Jack's door.

"Hi," Jack says when he lets Shitty in and closes the door.

"'Sup," Shitty says and opens his arms. "Dude, bring it in!" 

When Jack hugs him, he realizes Shitty is still wearing his backpack. He must have come straight from class. Part of his brain wants to tell him that he's interrupting Shitty's day and being a burden. The other part of his brain wants to tell him that Shitty must really value him to take time out of his schedule for him. And Jack tries to remind himself that just because Shitty has his backpack on doesn't automatically mean he was on his way somewhere, he could have been on his way  _ back _ from somewhere.

"Did you have class?" his traitorous mouth asks.

"Oh, yeah, it let out at two thirty. I was  _ gonna _ go sit in my room and be bored but then you texted, so here I am!"

Okay. That's alright, then.

"Did I do something stupid?" he asks next.

Shitty pulls back from the hug to look him in the eye and says, "Honestly?"

"Yeah."

"I mean, I don't know all the details, but I don't think so. You're a pretty cautious guy. If you decided to go ahead with it, then I trust you to have thought about it and carefully decided what you want to do. And like, sure, maybe it won't go well, but that doesn't mean it wasn't a good  _ decision, _ you know?"

"Huh." Jack sits down on his bed and nods at the spot next to him, which is all the invitation Shitty needs to toss his backpack by the door and join him. "Run that by me again."

"Like you can't control your ex. You don't know what he wants to talk about. So given what you  _ do _ know, I think you made the right decision. You can't blame yourself later if there was more information you didn't know, because how could you have known? You did the best you could. You can't control him. And also, maybe even if it goes badly you can at least have a chance to, like, get things out in the open, you know?"

And that... makes sense. And closure was one of the reasons Jack said yes. So he says, "Yeah. Thanks, Shitty."


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of the semester happens.

The season goes well. Jack's classes go okay. He doesn't fail his lab science GE. (And now he never has to do one of those again.) He spends more time with Shitty, and less with certain upperclassmen, and he tries not to worry too much about the impending call with Kent Parson, but he's Jack Zimmermann and worrying is what he does best.

Still. Shitty helps. Jack checks people into the boards and tries not to think about Kent, and he gets high for the first time and tries not to think about Kent, and he watches documentaries and tries not to think about Kent, and it works, mostly. 

But it's always there in the back of his mind.

December arrives, and then all of a sudden Jack is on a plane heading home, and he can't ignore it anymore.

He is going to talk to him. To Kent.

Jack isn't really worried in the way he was right after he made the decision, but he is nervous. It sits in the bottom of his stomach like a sack of marbles, all through the flight, customs, even when he sees his parents waving at him from outside security. It's weird. The outcome doesn't really matter, and he knows it doesn't really matter. He's nervous anyway.

His parents hug him, and he hugs them back, and the whole drive back to their house they update him on what's happened since their last call, which isn't much, honestly. But Jack doesn't want to talk, so he's glad they're filling the silence.

It's funny, really, but Quebec doesn't look that different from Massachusetts, if you don't pay too much attention to the street signs. Snow. Trees. A flat gray sky. These are the things Jack notices on the way home. He tries not to notice other things, like how his mother talks around Kent's name and how it's around the time when he usually eats lunch but he's so  _ not _ hungry that it almost hurts.

"Maman," he says as they pull into their driveway. "Can I borrow your phone once we get inside?"

"Of course, baby," she replies immediately. His father doesn't ask any questions. Jack doesn't know if she filled him in, or just told him Jack would talk about it when he was ready, or what, and he finds he doesn't really care. At least he doesn't have to answer any questions right now. He can focus on getting ready for this call.

They pull into the garage, and Jack shoulders his backpack, and his father takes his duffel from the trunk and hands it to him, and his mother digs through her purse and pulls her phone out and unlocks it and hands it to him as soon as they're inside the house. "Let us know if you need or want anything. Or if you're hungry."

"I'm not hungry yet," he says, even though the 'yet' feels like lying. He's not sure if he'll ever be hungry again. "Thank you."

His mother smiles at him, and then his father goes to the living room and turns on the television, which is a clear message that they'll leave him alone for this and not listen in.

Jack goes upstairs, backpack over one shoulder, duffel over the other, a phone in each hand, wondering how this afternoon is going to go.

His room looks exactly the same as he left it in the fall— well, late summer, really— with nearly bare light blue walls, except for a sepia-toned map of Canada on the wall opposite his window, and little rectangles of an even paler blue on the walls where he'd taped up posters, hockey posters, motivational posters, magazine covers. The tape had removed some of the paint when the posters got pulled down.

He'd made his bed before leaving, and he sits down on it heavily now and lets his bags fall off of his shoulders before opening his mother's contacts. Kent Parson is the last person in her call history.

He takes five deep breaths, makes sure his door is closed, and then hits Call.

The other side picks up after the second ring, and Jack isn't sure what he was expecting to feel, but he still feels like he's been hit with a hammer when he hears Kent's voice on the other end say, "Uh, hey... is this Zimms?"

He sounds  _ exactly _ the same. Maybe a little less... boyish, but only a little. The NHL has been kinder to him than rehab was to Jack, apparently. Well, that had already been pretty obvious. Jack didn't win any Stanley Cups in rehab. No Calders, either. And he's spent a lot of time trying to make himself  _ truly _ believe trophies don't make people happy, but it's hard to believe when Kent is still Kent and Jack is... Jack.

"Jack is fine," he says, more tired than he means for it to sound. He's ready to deal with this phone call, and he's ready to deal with talking to Kent again, but not if Kent's going to call him  _ that. _

"Sorry. Right. Yeah. Hi, Jack."

"Hi, Kent."

It's the first time Jack has said his name out loud in a long time.

Before he can get wrapped up in that train of thought, he bites back his instinctive 'what do you want' and asks, "So why did you want to talk?"

"Uh, I have a question," Kent says, and all of a sudden he sounds small. Did he sound that way earlier? Jack can't remember. "I've been... well. I want to come out. Publicly."

Jack can hear the period on that last word, and he knows time passes, but he doesn't know how much. The silence feels oppressive. Jack doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what to ask. But he's pretty sure he knows why Kent Parson is calling him now.

"Jack, I'm not an idiot," Kent continues. "And the press aren't either. If I tell them I'm... that I'm gay, you're going to be the next person they turn to."

"You want my approval," Jack says. It's not a question.

Kent sounds almost hurt when he says, "Of course I do. It wouldn't be fair to you otherwise. Listen, there was enough speculation about both of us in the Q, before, you think they won't notice now?  _ Especially _ now that you're playing hockey again?"

Jack feels that one like a punch to his chest. "I didn't know you knew about that."

"I've been paying attention. Also, after your first preseason game, everyone knew." His voice turns sharp. "I was just a little earlier than most, because I don't know if you know this? But I still care about you. That's the whole reason I called instead of just doing it without talking to you."

"Jesus, Kenny, you don't have to guilt me. I know what I did."

Jack realizes his mistake too late.

There's silence on the other end of the line, and then Kenny—  _ Kent, _ fuck— says, "Yeah, okay. Sure. I don't have to guilt you. But I had to go through your  _ mom _ to talk to you."

"I know."

"I didn't even know you changed your number until she told me. I thought you were still ignoring me. Jack,  _ why?" _ And he does sound small, now, small with a voice tight and bright enough that Jack knows it's a couple of wrong words away from shattering, and he knows that because they'd had to put each other back together so many times before. Until it got so bad that Kent couldn't fix him.

_ Fuck. _ "I can't... I can't talk about that right now. Later, maybe. Not right now. Let's talk about what you asked me."

There's a long sigh on the other end of the line, and Kent says, sounding almost as tired as Jack sounds to himself, "Yeah. Okay. Let's talk about that."

Jack tries to mentally adopt Shitty's calm when it comes to big, emotionally tangled questions. He doesn't know if it'll work, but it can't hurt. "Okay. If you want to come out... you should," he says, and maybe it's a nail in his own coffin but right now it just feels like words, which is what Jack needs it to feel like right now. And he gives up on pretending he hasn't been following Kent's season. "You just got a Cup last season, you're heading to the playoffs, it's a good time. As long as you're confident it won't make things harder for you on the ice."

Kent snorts on the other end of the line, and the sound almost makes Jack tear up because he hasn't heard that for  _ so long. _ "Trust me, it'll be harder. But hey, I'm already small and cute, the goons have always had it out for me. I'm fast enough to make it work."

"And you'll chirp them until half their team has penalties anyway, so what's the point," Jack says.

"I will," Kent says slowly, and Jack knows why. It's weird to just slip back into how they were. But at the same time, it's hard  _ not _ to. Kenny and Zimms, planning for the next spectacular hockey stunt.

But now they're Kent and Jack and it's not really a hockey stunt. It shouldn't be a stunt at all.

"But what about you?" Kent asks. "Don't tell me you'll be fine. Don't lie to me."

"But I will be—"

" _ Don't." _

And now Jack is remembering something else about Kent Parson. He doesn't let go of things easily. Every coach they had ever had called him tenacious. One of their goalies, once, had compared Kent to a terrier. 'Small but ferocious.'

He won't let go of this until Jack has assured him that he will find a way to cope.

"Samwell is isolated," Jack finds himself saying. "And people know I'm there, but why would they talk to me when you're right there in front of them?"

"To find out if I'm lying," Kent says. "Don't you think people would  _ love _ to get into a contest about who's right? If one of us says one thing, and one of us says another, it's my word against yours and they can spin a story for months if they do it right and just keep going deeper. If they ask me if we were together, no matter what I say they'll go ask you, and if our answers contradict each other then it'll be a lot worse than if we agree."

Jack has been through the media wringer. He's gotten lots of invasive questions about him and Kent Parson. He's gotten lots of invasive  _ assumptions _ about him and Kent Parson, assumptions he couldn't necessarily prove false.

"Better we tell them the truth now than have it bite us in the ass later," he says.

Kent exhales. "Yeah. I think so too."

"So it's settled?"

"Yeah."

But Jack can't quite make himself hang up.

And it seems like Kent can't either.

It's awful, really, because he's right there, but he's also not even in the same  _ country _ as Jack. And Jack shouldn't want to talk to him. He shouldn't want to miss him. He's done  _ plenty _ of therapeutic exercises about the impact he and Kent had on each other's lives, and it was not all good. Not nearly all good. 

But talking to Kent doesn't make Jack miss him less.

Almost like Kent knows what he's thinking— which, not so long ago, seemed like it was always the case— he says, "I miss you, Jack."

Jack doesn't miss the careful avoidance of his old nickname, after Jack asked him not to. Even though Jack messed up and called him Kenny. It makes his heart twist even more.

"I miss you too," he says.

There's a brief pause, and then Kent says, "I... I need to go. I'm glad we could talk." And there's that tight, bright tone in his voice again.

And before Jack has even really thought through it, he says, "Wait."

"What?"

"I'm giving you my phone number. So we can coordinate. And you don't have to ask my mom. Can you write it down?"

"Yes," Kent says immediately. "I've got a pen. I'm ready."

"Okay." Jack rattles off his phone number, and Kent repeats it back to him and Jack confirms that's right, and then he can't really figure out what to say next. So he says, "I should let you go."

"I guess," Kent agrees quietly. "Bye, Jack."

"Bye, Kent."

He doesn't know which one of them hangs up first. It shouldn't matter. But it feels like it does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that happened. kenny and zimms.
> 
> thank you so much for reading/kudosing/commenting! i'm gonna see how much of this fic i can get finished this week, but if i keep going like this i might be able to get it done.   
> (i say that now but i have NO idea what kind of word count/chapter count i'm going for lmao)  
> love, birl <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kent comes out.

For a while, that's the last Jack hears about Kent. He gives his mother her phone back and he texts Shitty to tell him what happened. He waits, for a few days, for Kent to text him, before he decides that's stupid. Even if Kent does text him, Jack shouldn't be waiting around for it. That won't help with anything.

And being home always feels like draping a heavy, fluffy blanket around himself. It's reassuring. He's getting better at not internally cringing whenever they discuss hockey, and it helps that a few days into his winter break, his parents decide to play shinny on the pond outside— a  _ real _ pond, not like Samwell's, but big enough for a couple of people when it's frozen over.

They make Jack the ref. "Our knees are no match for yours," his father says. "You're the only one of us who actually plays hockey," his mother says.

There aren't a lot of penalties. If it's one-on-one, they can't afford for one player to be sent off the ice. But Jack has an eagle eye for subtle pushing and shoving after coaching peewee, and he calls his parents on it several times, and every time, they laugh at each other and restart. 

Jack knows his parents' relationship hasn't always been as steady as it is now. They tried not to let it show around him, because he'd had enough on his mind already, but he knows anyway that they'd argued, a lot, while Jack was in rehab. When his aunt had come for an extended visit, they'd said it was so she could help out at home so his parents had more time to spend with him. It didn't take a great leap of imagination to realize she was also there to be a buffer.

But in the end, they'd fixed it. Jack had recovered. All three of them had talked a lot. And his parents had rediscovered what they already had, and now, watching them chirp each other (and his mother keeps up with the ex-pro athlete pretty well, especially for someone who's never played a sport competitively), Jack finds it hard to believe there was any way his parents couldn't have straightened out their relationship.

But that just reminds him of Kent again, so he focuses on his mother's semi-obvious poke check.

He doesn't know the specifics of Kent's plan, and as the months go by, as Jack goes back to Samwell and life continues to happen, he doesn't ask. First of all, he doesn't have a way to contact Kent without his mother's phone. Even Kent's phone number, which used to feel as familiar as his own, has blurred and escaped him over the years. And second of all, he doesn't want to be involved. He doesn't want to help. He just wants this to be over. But the long wait makes him wonder if maybe Kent lost his nerve.

And then Samwell gets knocked out of the playoffs. And then, only an hour later, almost as if he  _ knew _ , Jack gets his first text from Kent since 2009. Well. His first four texts.

**Maybe: kent:** hey its kent

**Maybe:** **kent:** parson

**Maybe: kent:** obviously

**Maybe: kent:** im doing it before playoffs

**Jack:** Ok

The timing makes a lot of sense. It's a natural breaking point in the season, and Kent can emphasize the fact that the Aces made playoffs in his first season as captain. It's a bit of a gamble because any Aces failure now will probably be blamed on Kent, but the same thing would apply any time during the season. 

He watches Kent's typing bubble pop in and out for a few minutes before he gets another text.

**Maybe: kent:** u had a good season

So he did know.

Jack still isn't sure how he feels about Kent keeping up with his season. He does the same thing with Kent's, but he's in the NHL. He's a fucking captain this season and his team won the Cup last year. And Jack plays D1 hockey. There's no way he could avoid hearing about Kent's season. Kent keeping up with Jack's means that Kent is putting in effort.

He doesn't know if he wants Kent to put in effort, when it comes to him. And not knowing is worse than knowing, in a lot of ways.

**Jack:** Thanks. Good luck

**Maybe: kent:** thanks

He exits the conversation without saving Kent's contact in his phone. 

But he wants to. 

And he can't help but wonder, who is he helping with this determination to cut off contact? It clearly didn't work. Their lives are too connected for it to really work.

An hour later, he adds Kent Parson to his contacts. They might need to talk more later. Once Kent has done whatever he's planning to do.

It comes in April.

It's a pretty normal Friday afternoon until he gets a text from Kent.

**Kent:** heading in now. wish me luck

**Jack:** Good luck

**Kent:** thank u. told my whole team last week

**Kent:** a couple of them knew already i told them like a year ago

**Kent:** if you ask me smth and i dont reply ive been eaten by media piranhas

**Jack:** You can't be eaten, the Aces need you for playoffs

**Kent:** ig well find out lol

**Jack:** If they didn't need you they wouldn't have made you captain

Kent doesn't reply to that, and Jack worries for about ten minutes (that 'lol' was not a sign of a calm, relaxed Kent) until he gets texts from both of his parents and Shitty at the same time, all saying to check ESPN with varying degrees of exclamation points and caps lock.

He has a sneaking suspicion he knows what he's going to find, and he decides that he's going to take advantage of being done with classes for the week and go to his room. He can watch ESPN there. He can call his parents, or Shitty, or, fuck, even Kent if he needs to. He can avoid the Swallow— almost a full year at Samwell has taught Jack that the Swallow is well-staffed, well-informed, and comprised of very fast runners. (He'd learned that last one watching them pursue a few members of the soccer team across the Quad. The Swallow reporters had almost caught up, but stamina won out.) They will almost certainly be the first people to start looking for him.

If he gets stuck in his room because they figure out which one he lives in, he can probably get the rest of the team to help get rid of them. He gets along with them okay. They'll probably want to help.

When he's almost back to his room, his phone buzzes again, and he half-expects it to be Kent, but it's Shitty, saying that Jack should let him know if he wants 'the Shitty Knight Snack Patrol' to come by with chips and 'those disgusting vitamin waters u like i have legit eight of them in my room as we speak'.

Right now, he wants to shut himself in his room and watch ESPN and see exactly what happened for himself, by himself, but the idea of eating snacks and complaining about ESPN commentators with Shitty afterwards sounds... pretty appealing.

**Jack:** I'm glad you didn't decide to call it the Shitty Snack Patrol

**Shitty:** ngl that was what i had originally typed but at the last moment i was like wait no

**Shitty:** is that a yes for snack patrol

**Jack:** Not right this second but in like ten minutes maybe? I'll text you

**Shitty:** sounds fuckin fantastic my beauteous friend

**Shitty:** my snacks are at ur command

Jack makes a mental note to do something nice for Shitty before the semester is over. He deserves it. More than one nice thing, really.

The room is quiet and still, and Jack absorbs it for a few seconds before sitting at his desk and taking out his laptop. ESPN's website is probably still livestreaming whatever Kent did, and if they're not, maybe there'll be an article or something.

No. They're still livestreaming.

The room is set up for a presser, with a table at the front occupied by several people in a line— not just Kent on his own, Jack notices. There are two men, both with graying hair, who are probably the GM and the owner. And a couple of Kent's teammates. He doesn't know them all by sight, but one of them, noticeably taller than Kent even sitting down, dark-haired and light-eyed, is talking right now, and for half a moment Jack thinks he could be looking at himself, but at the same time this guy doesn't look enough like him for it to really feel true. And of course, it can't be him, because Jack isn't there right now, he's here.

"If you're trying to find out if we feel uncomfortable in the locker room now, the answer is no," the man on the screen says firmly. "We're actually really glad that Parse felt like he could tell us, because it means we must be doing something right. That's the kind of team we want to be. Everyone can play and be welcome. No exceptions."

His voice has a drawl that Jack knows is midwestern, nothing like Jack's own accent that he feels creep back every time he goes home, and it's just one more brick in the wall between Jack and... Kent? The NHL? He doesn't know anymore. But the drawl helps Jack place him as Brad Olsen. He plays on Kent's line. Maybe the third Ace up there is the other winger, Troy. Jack's never managed to catch his first name. He doesn't do a lot of interviews.

"Thanks, Brad," some voice from the crowd of reporters says amidst a sea of new questions, but it's almost overpowered by someone else asking at the top of their lungs, "Kent, can you comment on your relationship with Jack Zimmermann in the Q?"

Apparently Jack got here at the right time.

"In what sense?" Kent asks slowly, and Jack knows he's playing for time so he can get his thoughts together. It's ridiculous, really, how he remembers all these mannerisms and all these habits. They've stuck with him through everything. How long will it take for them to vanish? More time than he hopes for, or less?

"Can you address the rumors that you and Zimmermann were involved when you played together in juniors? Are they true?" the reporter says.

"Yes," Kent says, and he seems perfectly calm as he says it but Jack spots the half-instant of uncertainty in his eyes. From the way Olsen glances over at him, he does too, and it makes Jack's gut twist for reasons he doesn't want to think about. "They're true. But that's all I'll say about Jack."

Of course, the reporters don't take him seriously about that until he flat-out ignores several questions in a row about Jack and the Q. Was it serious, did they keep it a secret on purpose, did Bad Bob Zimmermann know— Jack grits his teeth at that one, and it looks like Kent does too— but the last question Kent actually answers is still about Jack.

"Did you inform Jack Zimmermann of your plans to come out publicly?"

"Of course," Kent says, still with that shutter of fake calm on his face, and Jack feels an overpowering sense of deja vu. "It wouldn't be fair to him otherwise."

Then the players leave and the Aces' GM starts taking questions, which are mostly all variants on 'do you regret signing Kent Parson because he's gay', and Jack shuts his computer before he can get wrapped up in overanalyzing everything that comes out of the GM's mouth. Kent is the captain. The Aces need him. The players support him. The GM can't regret that. He  _ can't. _

**Jack:** You did well

**Kent:** thx just gotta go hide in a bunker until practice ig

**Kent:** how are u coping

**Jack:** I should be asking you that

**Kent:** i asked first

**Jack:** I'm doing okay

**Jack:** It's good you had some teammates up there with you

**Kent:** ya olsy insisted and i bribed swoops w coffeecake to sit there and stare down ppl who ask asshole questions

**Jack:** Olsen seemed like he really cares

**Kent:** and yet hes literally the straightest man i know

**Kent:** weird right

**Jack:** Yeah

**Jack:** Are you doing okay

**Kent:** i never want to see a camera again but ya p much

**Kent:** it helped a lot to have other ppl up there w me

**Kent:** i gtg swoops is demanding his coffeecake

**Kent:** text me if u need anything

**Jack:** You too

His room feels too quiet without the ESPN livestream or his phone buzzing. The silence sits like a weight and suddenly, Jack can't stand it anymore.

**Jack:** How soon can you be here

**Shitty:** 2 minutes

**Shitty:** im on my way

**Shitty:** ur gonna have to open the door my arms are full of snacks and i didnt know which flavor of vitamin water u would want so i have a bunch

**Jack:** How are you texting if your arms are full

**Shitty:** my phone was already in my hand lol

**Shitty:** also i might need u to open the door to ur dorm for me too sorry i cant reach my keycard

**Jack:** I'm on my way

He checks outside his door for Swallow reporters, makes sure he has his room key, and heads downstairs. Kent Parson is the first out NHL player, history has been made, he'll probably be swarmed by the Swallow eventually, but right now, Jack just wants chips and a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm thinking i just need one more chapter but i'm going to keep the total chapter count at ? until i know for sure lol
> 
> less angsty this time!!! 
> 
> thank u sm for reading/kudosing/commenting!!  
> love, birl <3


	4. Chapter 4

Once he and Shitty get back to his room, Jack is all set to just ignore the outside world for a while. But that's before his phone starts blowing up.

There are individual texts from other people on the team, some supportive, some asking if he saw the press conference, and the one from Johnson, the sophomore goalie, just says 'bro you have NO idea how this is going to change things i mean snowball effect am i right???' and Jack doesn't respond to that one because he doesn't know what Johnson means and it leaves a sick feeling in his stomach. He'd been hoping— maybe naively, but still— that not too much would change after this.

He's not sure what to say to the team. Sure, they spend a lot of time together, but are they good enough friends to have that conversation?

"Jack-o," Shitty says. "What's going on on your phone? You're looking at it like it's the Holy Hand Grenade."

"The... what?"

"Monty Python."

"Oh." Jack looks down at his phone again. It's probably more texts than he's ever received in one day in his life. "Just... wondering what to say to people."

"People?" Shitty pops a chip into his mouth.

"The team."

Shitty chews slowly, then swallows and says, "They'll want to hear it from you. I know it would be easier to just let reporters do what they do, but the team cares about you. Save the radio silence for, like, the people in your calc class."

"Huh." Shitty's on the team too, and he knows everyone else a lot better than Jack does, especially since he actually goes to the kegsters while Jack usually stays far, far away from them. So maybe he's right. Maybe this year of playing hockey together, spending hours together and winning and losing together, has made them good enough friends that they deserve to hear it from Jack— or, no, that they would  _ want _ to hear it from Jack. Shitty's much more likely to know that than Jack is. So if he says that's what the team would want... "Okay. Uh, can you help me figure out what to say?"

"Literally nothing would bring me more joy than helping you do this."

And it's definitely exaggeration, but Shitty grins at him and slings an arm around Jack's shoulders (he has to reach up to do so), and Jack thinks that maybe it's not  _ that _ far from the truth.

They type things out, then delete and start over, and then revise and delete and re-type and discuss and finish the chips and half of the vitamin waters and then, finally, they have a text message that  _ both _ Jack and Shitty deem acceptable (all their previous ideas have been rejected by either one or both of them), and Jack types it into the team group chat, takes a breath, verbally confirms with Shitty, and then hits send.

**Jack:** Hi everyone. I know a lot of you saw the ESPN thing today. I thought you all deserve to hear from me directly that I'm bi before the Swallow hunts me down.

As soon as he's sent it, people start responding, pretty much... all positive. A few people thank Jack for telling them, Patter asks if he and Parson were really together, Jack says yes and braces himself for more questions, but Johnson immediately says that since Kent Parson is a public figure who's already rejected sharing deets with the world at large maybe they shouldn't ask Jack about it too much. And weirdly, the rest of the team seems to agree. Then Matty invites everyone over to the Haus for a Wii Tennis tournament and the conversation shifts to that.

He wonders if Kent is going to text him. Then he decides to try not to think about that. They've done what they needed to do. Jack's gone without talking to Kent at all for years, and now they've just resolved the one last reason they had to talk to each other.

It's... weird. To have closure without having it. He has everything he needs to just walk away from Kent now, let him be exclusively someone from Jack's past, but does he have everything he wants?

"I don't know if I'm ever going to talk to him again," he says out loud, and he doesn't realize he's said it until Shitty pats his shoulder.

"You have his number, right? So if you want to, then you can, and if you don't want to, then you don't have to."

"I want to, kind of? It's just." Jack sighs. "I don't remember ever talking to him about anything other than hockey, or things related to hockey. I don't know what to say."

Shitty thinks about that for a moment, but eventually he says, "There's a first time for everything. Just because you didn't before doesn't mean you can't now. I mean, this whole fuckin' day has been about doing things nobody's done before."

"I guess."

"And, like, it's not like you have to talk to him  _ now." _

"Yeah."

Unsurprisingly, the Swallow is the first group to send a reporter after him. Jack and Shitty are on their way to the Haus for the Wii Tennis tournament, and it's on the Haus lawn that Jack says "I'm bisexual" with a phone recording him for the first time. And confirms that yes, he and Kent were together, but it's in the past. They still talk occasionally— Jack leaves out the details— but for the most part they've gone their separate ways.

Then Matty and Johnson emerge and Matty threatens to get the hose from the back of the Haus and soak the Swallow reporter if they're not off the lawn in thirty seconds. So that's the end of the interview. 

Jack is doing pretty well in the Wii Tennis tournament before he remembers that he never told his parents why Kent had wanted to talk to him in the first place. And then Johnson knocks him out in the next round, and the afternoon is shifting into early evening, so he knows he can call his parents and it won't bother them. They've said it never bothers them and he can call anytime, and on one level Jack does believe this, but on another level he still hates the feeling of imposing and it's easier to avoid if he calls at a reasonable time.

The kitchen is too close to the living room, and Jack doesn't want to ask anyone if he can borrow their room, so he heads out the back door and sits in the grass. It's a nice day, and there's enough sun that it's pleasant to be out here.

He calls his mother.

"Hey, baby," she says as soon as she picks up. "You're on speaker."

"Hi," Jack says. "Uh, you saw ESPN?"

"Mhm." The sound is noncommittal. He can tell that it comes from both of his parents.

"That's what Kent wanted to talk to me about," he says, although they've probably figured that out by now. "Over winter break. To make sure I was okay with it."

"And you agreed?" his father asks carefully.

"Yes. Obviously."

_ "Well," _ he says, and the freeness in his voice is a distinct contrast from how it was only a second ago. "That's fine, then. We were worried he'd done it without your permission."

"He's still Kent," Jack says, and he doesn't know what he means by that until it's out of his mouth, and then all of a sudden he does. Kent is a lot of things. He fights dirty on the ice and he's a little reckless at all times, and he gets self-absorbed, but he has strong opinions on what's fair and what's not, even if they skew a little towards justifying his own actions sometimes. Rushing a goalie is fair, if he can get away with it. Outing someone else is not. Jack knows that from the Q, from the nights when they'd talked about what they would do once they were both pro. How they would deal with being on different teams. What they would say about each other.

Real life has gone a little differently from how he and Kent had planned it.

"He wouldn't do that to me," Jack says, and he finds that he actually believes it. And anyway, it's all out in the open now. Even if Kent  _ would _ do that to him, he can't anymore. There are no more secrets for them to use as leverage. Nothing to force them into hiding.

"We're so proud of you," his mother says.

"You did something brave," his father agrees. "Really brave."

"All I did was have one phone call and agree to let Kent do the hard part," Jack says. "I wouldn't call that brave."

"You let the world know something true about you." Jack's never heard his father like this, so earnest. So determined to convince him he did something well. It makes his lungs feel tight, but he doesn't feel like he's going to panic. "Jack, that's the hardest thing to do, and you did it. And we are so proud of you."

The tightness in Jack's chest pulls at him even more, and he recognizes it suddenly for the sobs that it threatens. But he forces himself to breathe steadily, uses his core to make his diaphragm move, inhales in through his nose and out through his mouth.

He'd worked himself into panic, and fury, and tears over the years, trying to figure out how to make his father proud of him. Not just one good game. Not a series of good games. Not even winning a championship. And for years he'd thought that going first in the draft, or at least going pro and winning the Stanley Cup, was the only way, and even then there'd been thoughts in the back of his brain whispering that it wouldn't be enough until he'd won the Cup more times than Bad Bob Zimmermann had.

Is this all he had needed?

"Thanks, Papa," he says into the phone, because it's all he can get out right now. 

"Does your team know?" his mother asks.

"Yes, I texted them. I'm at the Haus right now. We were playing Wii Tennis, but, uh, I lost to Johnson. So I'm out of the tournament."

She makes a pleased noise. "I'm glad you have them."

Which reminds him. "I should do something for Shitty. He's helped me a lot with this."

"We can help you figure something out," his dad says. "And if he's helped you, he's welcome at our house anytime."

"I'd love to meet him," his mom agrees. "Invite him up for a visit this summer."

Jack feels himself smiling. "I think he'd like that," he says, and he knows it's true. "I should go back in before Matty thinks he has to rescue me from Swallow reporters again. Uh, I love you."

"We love you too," his parents chorus, and Jack can hear the smiles in their voices. He hopes they can hear that he's smiling, too.

Kent doesn't text him.

Well, not for a while.

He texts 'congrats' when Jack gets voted captain for the next year, and that begins a long tradition of texting each other one-word congratulations messages whenever something important happens. For a long time, it's just hockey. The Aces winning another Cup. Jack getting signed. Precisely two griping texts, one from each of them, about the press trying to make their first game against each other in the NHL a big deal. The Falconers winning their first Cup. 

Then, about halfway through the offseason, Kent texts again. It's the  _ offseason, _ so Jack can't help but worry that there's been some sort of disaster, but the text is anything but.

**Kent:** i started seeing someone

**Jack:** Congrats

**Kent:** A THERAPIST

**Kent:** not like. a boyfriend

**Jack:** Oh. Congrats anyway

**Kent:** thx

**Kent:** almost 10 yrs late imo but its rlly helpful

**Kent:** i mean ive been crying a lot but thats probably good tbh

**Kent:** anyway

**Kent:** this is awkward but

**Kent:** can we talk sometime

**Kent:** no purpose just to like. hang out

**Kent:** i miss ur talking over trashy reality tv shows and u also havent seen enough pictures of my cats

**Kent:** and like. i know our time in juniors was kind of fucked from the start bc of how much pressure everyone was under

**Kent:** but i feel like we could still be friends now, and i want to try that if ur ok with it, but u can also feel free to ignore this if u dont want to

**Jack:** I thought you only had one cat

**Kent:** I HAVE THREE JACK THIS IS WHY WE NEED TO HANG OUT

**Jack:** Haha

**Jack:** Sure

He gets an influx of cat pictures after that, as well as a list of reality TV shows Kent watches now ranked from most to least trashy, and the peace in Jack's chest gives him a cautious hope that maybe they'll get closure on their past by moving on from it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy endings abound
> 
> i have one more extra-ish thing for this fic, which i'll upload soon-- it's a continuation of the text conversation at the end of this chapter, semi-jokingly subtitled 'how kent parson got jack zimmermann to text him eighteen times in a row' (actual eighteen texts not included)
> 
> thank you so much for reading, kudosing, and commenting! and if you have any other ideas/requests for fics in this AU, i am all ears-- i don't have any other projects atm. my classes start again on monday so i may not be able to get chapters out as fast as i did the past couple of weeks, but i'd still love to have some stuff to work on in my spare time!
> 
> love, birl <3


	5. Bonus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of Jack and Kent's text conversation.

**Kent:** also i meant to say earlier but i wasnt sure if it was appropriate? but i saw that interview u and ur boyfriend did together

**Kent:** u look happy together

**Kent:** im happy for u

**Jack:** Thanks

**Jack:** If you meet Bitty and he likes you he might bake you things and if he does you should eat them

**Jack:** He's great at hockey but absolutely nothing compares to his pies

**Jack:** Although he's amazing at hockey too, have you been following Samwell after I graduated?

**Kent:** fucking SWEET

**Kent:** sry jack forget what i said about us hanging out im gonna hang out with bitty instead and beg him to bake me things

**Kent:** does he like cat pictures can i get him to like me with cat pictures

**Kent:** im literally searching up samwell games rn what number is he

**Jack:** #15, but you can probably pick him out, he's easily the fastest player on the ice

**Jack:** He was a champion figure skater

**Jack:** He didn't start playing hockey until junior year of high school

**Kent:** what the fuck

**Kent:** how did he get onto a d1 team wHAT

**Jack:** He's just that good

**Kent:** okay im fucking coming to providence pls help me win over ur boyfriend so i can get pies and also see for myself how he managed to get on samwells team

**Jack:** Haha

**Kent:** im not joking like ive never been further from joking in my life

**Jack:** I'll pick you up from the airport whenever

**Jack:** Bitty got voted captain for next year too

**Jack:** He's easily the most improved player on the team, he was on the starting line in his first year

**Jack:** I'll show you some tape when you're here and you'll see what I mean

**Kent:** deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this while I was writing chapter 4 but then I decided to have it be a little bonus end thing instead of including it with that chapter. 
> 
> Kindly envision, if you will, Kent Parson visiting Providence. Bitty (who in this AU has much less reason to hate him since Jack and Kent kind of made up before Bitty met either of them, although he still Disapproves of Kent's instigator tactics on-ice) bakes relentlessly. Nobody can escape the cat pictures. Additionally, nobody can escape the highlight reels that Jack made of Bitty playing hockey.
> 
> kent: what if i taught my cats how to play hockey  
> jack: (immediately enthralled) kit would be a center  
> kent: we could get them gear  
> jack: we need to teach them to skate  
> bitty: NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT  
> bitty: cats are natural figure skaters
> 
> thank you so much for reading/kudosing/commenting! and hmu if you have any ideas/requests for more fics in this AU since this one is complete now :)  
> love, birl <3

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't mean this to be multichaptered but what can ya do. i'll try to get more of this up this week bc next week my classes start up again!
> 
> thank y'all so much for reading, kudosing, and commenting!! u are keeping me going on that daily fic writing grind & i love u for it!!  
> love, birl <3


End file.
